


And That's How We Met

by rustedcrimson



Category: The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustedcrimson/pseuds/rustedcrimson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basil meets Henry at college, and they hit it off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And That's How We Met

Basil Hallward had transferred at the worst possible time. Everyone was just returning from spring break, and their collective sentiment towards all things related to and within school was apathy at best, and hostility at worst. Groups had already been established in the fall, and to infiltrate an entrenched set of relationships is both daunting and, arguably, hopeless. Though a loner by nature, the absolute neglect and indifference of his peers had left him in a miserable haze of half finished assignments and sleep-deprivation.   
Art is, in essence, a distraction from ones own life by passionately experiencing and analyzing the outer world. Basil did not need to think about the creeping deadlines and lack of interaction that dominated his life, so long as he could paint the budding daffodils sprouting up around campus. Art is a desperate attempt to ignore life by immersing oneself in it.   
Of course, the human mind is agonizingly persistent, and desires fade only long enough to make their return increasingly painful. There were several people Basil wanted very much to befriend, but fear always overcame infatuation, and he continued to eat lunch alone.   
It was a lovely day, and Basil sat on a bench beneath a sloping maple, the leaves of which had just begun to unfold in pale veined sprouts. He had a small lunch, being naturally peckish, and as always, a canvas and set of paints and brushes. These he had set beneath the bench, and was slowly eating his sandwich, shifting positions often to keep the sun out of his eyes.   
His looked up from his lunch as he noticed one of the people he’d taken a liking to. They’d never spoken, but it was rather hard to avoid at least hearing the other man, and certainly impossible to avoid hearing of him. Besides, he was quite handsome, and Basil was far too aesthetically inclined to not let that affect his emotions.   
Of course, the man was notoriously rude, purposely offensive, and terribly egotistical. But Basil hardly noticed.   
He had returned his gaze to the sandwich after a few moments, not wanting to stare, and was quickly lost in thought. He hardly noticed when the man sat down next to him.  
“Hi. I’m Henry.”  
Basil looked up, rather flustered. He racked his brain for any logical reason the man had decided to talk to him. He’d given up expecting anyone to begin a  conversation with him, let alone the man he’d inadvertently idolized over the past couple of weeks.  
“Oh- nearly everyone in the lower dorms is sick,” he murmured to himself, not intending it to be spoken loud enough to hear.  
Henry laughed. “Yes- sick for one day and absent for two- only to get “sick” again next Monday.”  
Basil gave a slight smile.  
“Are your friends sick too?”  
Basil shook his head. “They’re nonexistent,” he said dryly.   
Henry grinned. “You’re Basil, aren’t you? You’re new- that’s why I haven’t met you before.”  
“Yes,” Basil said, gathering up his supplies. He didn’t want to get attached to someone who knew the whole of campus. The most social of people are the least friendly. They know everybody but familiarize themselves with nobody. Basil knew quite well that he would be unable to stand such a friendship. “I’ll see you around I suppose,” he said, giving a slight wave as he began to skulk off.   
“Wait!” Henry cried, jumping off the bench. “Do you have to go? I’m painfully bored, everyone is either hungover or in class. Can’t you talk for a bit?”  
Yes. He knew that Henry used people for entertainment. Yes. He knew that he was far from the man’s first choice for a conversational partner. Yes. He knew that he would be nothing but a passtime. He sat back down on the bench. Some people are very persuasive with words, some with expressions. Henry, it turned out, was both.   
“It’s nice to know you’re only talking to me because you’re bored,” Basil said sarcastically.   
Henry shrugged. “Boredom is the primary drive of humanity.”  
“It is not!” Basil protested.   
“Why are you talking to me then?”  
Basil blushed. “I like you.”  
Henry grinned. “Well, I like to be liked, so I think we’ll get along wonderfully.”  
“You know nothing about me yet!” Basil protested.  
“You’re an artist, and artists are always worth knowing,” Henry said with a wave of his hand. “They’re the only people who know that the things worth hiding are the only things worth saying. They turn pain into beauty.”  
“Then you will be terribly disappointed,” Basil began. “I put nothing into my art save for what I see.”  
“Then you will be an awful artist,” Henry said, laughing.   
“What a horrible thing to say!”  
“It is quite true Basil! Art is not an observation, it is an introspection! If you do not put your emotions into a painting, then it will never be anything more than a painting! Art is not in the action, it is in the feeling.”  
“I should think I know a great deal more about art than you do,” Basil snapped. “I’ve been studying it for ages, so if you’d kindly shut up-”  
“My, my, have I upset you?” Henry said, cutting him off and looking awfully pleased with himself.  
“Quite!” Basil exclaimed, crossly gathering his things up again. “You are just as rude as everyone says!” he added sharply.   
“Did you expect me to be something else?”  
Basil shook his head. “I shouldn’t have,” he muttered. “Good-bye, Henry.”  
“Basil, wait-”  
“If you treat people poorly then you mustn’t be hurt when they return the favor,” he said coldly.  
“I’m just playing around,” Henry insisted, and Basil felt, though he could have imagined it, that there was a note of pleading in the following sentence. “Don’t leave.”  
“There are other people around. You’ll find one. Everyone seems to love you, though now I’ve met you, I’m not sure how.”  
“I don’t want to talk to someone else,” Henry whined, grabbing Basil by the hand and attempting to pull him back. “You’re here, and you interest me.”  
“And how long will I interest you?” Basil asked hotly. “Until tomorrow when all your real friends are able to entertain you again?”  
“You’re not like them,” Henry started. There was a slight pause. “You- challenge me. I like that.”  
Basil sat back down, sighing loudly. “I don’t want to challenge you. I want a friend, Henry. I don’t want to be entertainment.”  
“I want a friend, too.”  
“You have lots of friends.”  
“I have lots of acquaintances,” he corrected.   
“That’s your own fault,” Basil started. “Maybe if you were nicer to people-”  
“That’s not the problem-”  
Basil gave him a look.  
“That’s only part of the problem. It’s hard to find people who aren’t afraid to call me  
out.” He looked at Basil. “You aren’t.”  
“I’ve been walked over before, and I’m not going through that again.”  
“Good, I need someone who won’t let me walk all over them.”  
“This isn’t how friendships start,” Basil said, looking skeptical.   
“Friendships start when people take a mutual interest in each other, that’s the only thing that needs to remain constant. Would you like to get coffee?”  
Basil was silent for a moment. Henry was obnoxious, loud, rude, and selfish. But Basil felt that there was more to him than that, and he was determined to find out what.   
“That would be nice.”  
Henry grinned. “Let’s go. There’s this one little shop on the edge of campus that-”  
Basil wasn’t listening though. He was too happy to listen. Perhaps he had transferred at just the right time.


End file.
